Jiggety-jog

Three weeks ago we joined the other 4 old missionary couples serving in Poland for our semi-annual conference, yes, we'll call it "conference" because we did indeed confer with each other. I think it's the Church's ploy to keep us from revolt. It would be more proper to call it a retreat. We retreated into the mountains of southern Poland to Zakopane and spent the weekend together enjoying the beauty of that resort town and regaling each other with stories of our various little branches in the vineyard. 

It was revitalizing. Somehow it's helpful to learn that others are doing good in the circumstances they're in plus it relieves some of the isolation we feel being separated by hours. Besides the ten of us seasoned folk, we enjoyed hiking and eating and receiving instruction and inspiration from our mission president and wife, along with the three of their six children who are in Poland with them.

Impressive that such old people could climb to the top of this mountain ridge that forms the border of Poland and Slovakia.

Until you see how we got to the top.

Getting 10 strong-willed people of experience going in the same direction, whilst each is overtly trying to show consideration for the others at the same time, made for some lighthearted tug-o-wars over which ice cream stand to try or which restaurant to stuff ourselves at.

See some of the hardships of senior missionary life?

I feel something like guilt for what I share after that. There's no easy segue to the heinous scenes memorialized at Auschwitz-Birkenau. It's not possible to relay the impressions one gets from a visit there. 

The infamous sign (Arbeit Macht Frei) mocking those who were imprisoned there before their certain death decries the irony of the efficient systematization of the camp's gruesome function. The exhibits did not need pictures of the awful sights you've seen in documentaries, rather the artifacts belonging to real individuals tell the story of thousands upon thousands.

I've said before that the Polish people are great at rebuilding, given the many wars they've been the battleground for. They have a saying that a Pole works with his sword in one hand and a brick in the other. One city that is a beautiful example of that civic rebuilding is Kraków. 

 It's central market square is stunning in daylight or moonlight.

 I chuckle at how, despite our denial of it, we inevitably fall into stereotypes. Evidence that I'm not the only husband who would rather sit outside the shops and wait, all day if necessary, rather than ooh and aah over every possible purchase, then oh and ouch over every złoty spent. 

This is what our five wives saw when they had finally visited every single shop in this town.

(We're sitting on a bridge, that's a bonus)

Back to our timeline, as I said, this started three weeks ago. After our senior conference we stopped in Kraków to check a couple of missionary apartments (sisters-neat but quick to say they could do better; elders-gross but proud of how much better it is now). 

The next week we caught a plane out of Warsaw to SLC. It was a sweet, though short reunion with our family. Tip and Katelyn were married in Salt Lake and all we can say in this limited space is that it was wonderful. The ceremony was beautiful, full of promise, and eternal in content.

After packing all we could into our short time, we boarded our plane last week from SLC to Warsaw and into the middle of our Fall YSA conference there. We spent time with these young people who really try to be strong because they are doing it, pretty much, on their own. The group was small, about ten from all of Poland, but they are truly exceptional.

Last night, Sunday, we arrived home again, home again, back to Gdańsk. I'm reflecting that we call this being home. As in the saying, "Home is where the heart is," this is where our hearts are right now. Of course we love and miss our family and friends and our hearts are also "back home," but we really feel this is where our hearts are for another year.

A small note from the temple experience: One of the shushers in the temple cautioned us that when the couple exits the temple we should not do the customary cheer as that can be heard by others inside the building. 

I thought: Should we not cheer the formation of a new, eternal kingdom, joining our cheers with the cheers of all those who have gone before?

The newest Mr. and Mrs. Bridge

September begins

Gdańsk is a popular vacation spot, with its beaches and history and rebuilt old town. August is the month they have a street market in the old town, this year being the 759th. The event adds a lot of vendor booths on the cobblestone streets, it also adds about twice as many people to the city. We noticed a vast difference in traffic and foot traffic getting to our chapel location during August, it being close to the old town and the main train station. Once the street market ended we noticed a sharp decline in visitors to the city, but with the hot weather there were still loads of people about.

School here starts at the first of September, marking the end of summer and two things have happened overnight: 1) The streets have become nearly void of recreators and 2) The weather has changed from 30°C to 20°. I don't know how the weather knew to coordinate that with the end of summer vacation, but it really was overnight. Now the kids in the neighborhood are outdoors only until the sun sets, and that noticeably earlier, the clothes have instantly changed from short and cottony to full jackets with hats and scarves, and the leaves of some trees have started to gain color. We suspect that by the time we return at the end of the month, the forests we drive through daily will be spectacular.

Return, you wonder? We will travel to Utah for our son Tip's wedding to Katelyn. That's another one of the great perks of senior missionaries vs young ones. (If you are a young missionary who has a son, I commend you). We've received permission to travel home for this event and of course we're excited. Jonathan and Maddie were married in September two years ago, James and Milly were married last September, Tip and Katelyn will be married this September. All of them within a week of each other. It wasn't planned that way, but I've been telling people September is special since I was 5. 

And next September we are scheduled to be home from Poland and not just for a week. Lots to do here before then, though. 

Sorry this post just gives you the facts. Over and out.

Can't leave you bridgeless

Grasping

This week a young woman, very kind, who sincerely enjoys serving other people, who reads the Bible, and who feels a connection to all the creations of this earth did not know how God could literally be her Heavenly Father. The concept that we are actually His children is not something she really believed. For Him to have a body of flesh and bone, even if it is glorified and perfected, was new to her. She probably understood that in some way He loves us, but she did not have a concept that He understands and feels our sorrows and rejoices in our progress. I don't know exactly what her concept of God was, but I sense it is something "unknowable" and ominous, a being who has all power but does not use it to relieve suffering. Not understanding those attributes made it hard to understand that He wants to communicate with us, His children.¹

This week a toddler walked unsteadily on a slippery parquet and at the encounter of the smallest obstacle, a red balloon, she fell and got up, and fell and got up. I smiled at her unflappability and the delightful joy she got from the very object that was compelling her to learn better how to navigate on her tiny, bowed legs. I smiled at the joy He must feel at my trying.

This week a young father, a manly man, who was forsaken by his mortal father when a young boy, realized that we did not leave our Father just so we could return to Him. That's a pleasant enough idea, but there must be a better reason than that to justify our leaving. He figured that if returning is the only purpose, why would we ever leave? The man calculated that there must be much more to justify the unfathomable suffering Father's special Son had to go through to get us back to Him.

This week two young women witnessed the grim remains of a huge and harsh camp set in a lovely, secluded forest. They were confronted with the reality that abuse and torture and killing can be done with no remorse as a consequence of who the sufferers are, not for what they did.²

This week an intelligent man, about 50, beaten down, admitted that alcohol helped him avoid the problems he faced. He felt free of fear, loneliness, discouragement, regret—for a while. He came to the reality that because life is full of the conditions that prompt these kinds of feelings, he resorted to that temporary freedom more and more often. He confided that he literally had become disconnected from his own will.³

This week a senior missionary couple were shown that there are men and women undergoing trials and tests of faith that might lead you to say, “Their faith will break.” But it doesn’t break, and they do take it. And if you will look carefully, you will soon realize that peace has been spoken to their souls and faith in deliverance increased. Noticing that has made themselves feel again and again and again and again that peace.⁴

You would miss it if there were no bridge picture, so here is one

Stutthof

Something that caught Jean's eye 

¹God is Our Loving Heavenly Father, Preach My Gospel.

²Sztutowo (Stutthof), concentration camp.

³Honesty, Addiction Recovery Program.

⁴A Law of Increasing Returns, Henry Eyring, March 28, 1982.